Twelve Days of Abigail
by Karen's Drunk
Summary: James Norrington returns to the physical world with every intention of seeking revenge on those who did him wrong. An exchange made long before his death binds him to a young woman responsible for aiding his quest, however, it's too bad she's more clueless than any un-dead-dead participant ever could be. Norrington/OC


_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for all the OCs and anything that's not related to the POTC films. So...don't sue me._

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A/N: Ah, alright, so I've got a few things to explain. The story begins with the main character's mother visiting someone that essentially is the setup for the entire plot (not entire, but sort-of-entire). Because dates aren't very clear in the POTC world, I'm going to just tell you that it takes place during the first film. And given the details of this chapter you'll see how that's relative. I won't say too much, but apparently a 5th POTC is in the works (!) and is set to be released sometime in 2016—boo. I'm saying this because if what I read regarding a certain former Commodore is actually happening in the 5th movie, then I should successfully be able to blend all the films Norrington has made (will make?) an appearance in with my OC. Was this terribly confusing? I'm really sorry if it was. Anyway, that's all I wanted to say besides a formal hello, so, hello! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

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_Prologue_

Just as Adriana Wright both feared and hoped, there before her stood the infamous stilted house Tia Dalma was known to reside in. A chill overtook the longboat she sat inside—despite the moderate temperature that had followed her down the Pantano River. To call the sensation eerie would neither do Tia Dalma nor the bayou any justice.

Clumsily, she attempted to steer the boat towards the makeshift pier at the base of the shack, but it seemed unwilling to move. Instead, the boat glided on its own before coming to a stop; as if the waters were in charge.

Adriana was quick to exit the boat and attempt the latter beneath the shack's front door. It was a little shaky when she first climbed on, but after pausing to calm her nerves, she made it up in one piece.

Slowly, she braced her fist to knock, but the door—or rather Tia Dalma—was one step ahead of her, opening itself in one swift movement.

"An' who might you be?"

Adriana tore her eyes away from the various bottles and books that were thrown about the shack to focus on something far more interesting.

There, perched before her with a striking resemblance to how the stilted house was presented from a distance on the river, sat Tia Dalma.

She was nothing and yet everything like Adriana had pictured; a woman of magic, no doubt, with the outward appearance to boot.

"Adriana Wright, I seek your help, Miss Tia Dalma." She spoke out as confidently as possible. Just as she had rehearsed.

A silence soon followed, but it was gone before Adriana could even account for its presence.

"You be with child."

She blinked without a lick of air in her lungs to formulate words.

Tia Dalma only smirked, of course, showcasing teeth darker and murkier than the waters beneath her very feet.

"You be bearin' a daughta, but somethin' tells me dis be news to you too."

"I-I," She was stuttering, despite having promised herself she wouldn't. Surely Miss Tia Dalma was incorrect—of course, Adriana wouldn't have sought her assistance had she ran the risk of being wrong.

"Der be nothin' wrong wid bein' a moda."

"I—"

"You gon' tell me why you be needin' my assistance."

The change of pace was dizzying; it felt like she was being slapped on both sides of her cheeks, one right after the other in an unchanging cycle.

"Uh, right, of course. My husband is going to be facing dangerous waters soon. He's a privateer. I had heard that you can control the ocean."

"You heard right," Tia Dalma mused.

"Yes, I fear for his safety, Miss Tia Dalma. Everyday and every night while he is away I pray for his return to be quick and that he comes back in one piece. And, well, if I am to be bearing a daughter,"

"Ye' are."

"_Since_ I am now pregnant," Tia Dalma nodded in approval. Adriana only shivered. "I need him to be safe and come back to me. Please."

For a brief moment not a sound was made, even the wildlife outside seemed to have hushed in anticipation.

"What you be payin' me in return for ye' husband's safety."

As if she had just taken her first breath, Adriana sprang into life. Her hands fumbled to her hip, "I brought my family's finest golds, Miss."

Tia Dalma, with her fingers tapping the table before her, regarded the girl with calculating eyes.

"I," Adriana froze. "I had them right here, I,"

"No payment no services," She shrugged, "dead husband."

"There has to be something I can exchange,"

And just like that, Tia Dalma's tapping ceased. "Your doughta…" Her lips curled around the words, her tongue darting between the parted skin as if she were presented before a salivating feast.

"Der are tings I see in dis world and de next. I see two souls, one in ye' stomach and one not yet ready to be askin' for my help. But when dat daughta of yours gets a soul of her own, she be good news to the other and mine."

The woman erupted in loud, brash fit of laughter; completely disregarding her serious façade from moments ago. "De less work I gotta do de better! In exchange for ye husband's safety, your daughta be bound to a soul, with de responsibilities of aiding de soul if I can't."

"But,"

"I grant her de ability of sight and when de lost soul seeks help, she be ready to."

"I don't,"

"Souls look for other souls, Adriana. Dead souls dat haven't found one come to _me_, and seeing as de soul has yet to die, ye doughta will be the right age when its time."

"There has to be something else—"

"By de time your doughta is de right age for de magic to work, de soul be dead an lookin' for revenge."

"Revenge?" Adriana repeated in confusion.

"_Yes_, she be bind to de soul to aid it."

"How, if I may ask, will she be able to do that?"

Tia Dalma leaned forward with a hardening glare. "De soul can't see clearly with dead eyes. He be needin' guidance."

"He?"

"You be reachin' a _dangerous_ amount of questions, Miss Wright."

Adriana tried to keep up with everything Tia Dalma was saying, but it was slowly becoming too much for her to understand—too much too soon, and though she was nearing desperation, she couldn't quite will herself to place such a burden on her unborn daughter.

"Forgive me..."

"Ye' choices are simple, pick one so we can both get back to our lives," Tia Dalma motioned her hands towards Adriana expectantly. "Go on..."

Adriana huffed in a deep, ragged breath. She was beginning to feel lightheaded the longer she stood, as if thinking too hard had physical repercussions. It was Harry's last voyage before his promised retirement, and it was supposedly the biggest one yet—_if_ what she heard at the port days prior were true, his return seemed slim to none. With her impending pregnancy, along with the limited options Hispaniola had to offer, Adriana couldn't imagine raising a daughter without her husband there to help.

A daughter, no thanks to Tia Dalma, that will be bound to an undead—soon to be dead—soul.

"A-alright. I agree." Her feet nearly gave out from underneath her.

Tia Dalma smiled that same unnerving smile once more, beckoning her to step forward. And as if she were being pulled by some unseen force, Adriana was able to take those small, irrevocable steps towards a faith no one could have ever seen coming.

Well, besides Tia Dalma, of course.


End file.
